Hetalia Nightmares
by xAbnormalxAlphax
Summary: Each character has nightmares. Some are memories, some are just general fears. Some are light-hearted or humorous, while others are very serious. (Rated M for graphic and gory scenes, strong language) (Trigger-warnings: Suicide, Rape)
1. Pearl Harbor (America)

America sat with the other Allied Powers at their meeting. England was droning on like usual. China was arguing with him about who would get what land. America had not yet entered the war, so he didn't think he would get any land. He didn't really care. Something didn't feel right, though. Canada was there, so that couldn't have been it.  
"America…?" France looked at him concerned and confused. "You okay…?"  
"Something isn't right. I just know it." His voice was stern, yet somehow weak. Suddenly, pain his his torso, and he doubled over.  
"A-America!" England looked at his little brother. America coughed up blood into his hand, and squeezed his eyes shut.  
"Pearl Harbor…Something is wrong with Pearl Harbor." Suddenly, his eyesight changed to men being bombed. To Pearl Harbor, more specifically, being bombed. His eyes flashed back to the world meeting. "Bombs…Bombs…"  
Canada set a hand on America's back gently as America coughed up more blood. America's sides stung and ached. He groaned in pain, clenching his jaw tightly. "Japan…Japan…" He could barely speak. "Bombed…Pearl Harbor."  
"America-san…America…" It was Japan's Engrish. America opened his eyes, to reveal a Jap sitting over him, looking very concerned. It was in the dark.  
America cried out in fear. "G-Get away, Jappie! Go!" Tears of fear ran down his cheeks. "Nobody wants you, Jap!"  
Japan tried his best to calm America down. "Shh, shh, it's okay." He moved away from him a bit, and handed him his glasses. "It's 2014. You were having a nightmare. It's okay, shh…"  
America gratefully took his glasses, wiping his eyes and putting them on, while apologizing. His hands were trembling. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to call you a Jap, I just…"  
"It's okay." Guilt weighed down Japan's heart.  
He still has nightmares about Pearl Harbor. This poor boy. What have I done? I don't blame him for anything. I'm surprised he's my friend now. He could call me 'Jap' or 'Jappie' any day. I don't care, I deserve it.  
America was still trembling and crying. Japan looked at him. He hesitantly and slowly hugged him, making sure not to scare America even more. "Shh, it's okay. You're safe now. It's 2014." America cried softly into Japan's shoulder, hugging him tightly. "I'm so sorry, America-san."


	2. Rape of The Volk (Germany)

The man was much smaller and shorter than Germany, yet he was so much more powerful. He was a very short man compared to the Germans. He was Austrian-born, but he was very small for an Austrian. He had a dark brown comb over and a small little moustache that never fit him. It always looked hideous on him. Not like much could flatter his face, though. He was an ugly man, inside and out. People always say that mean people get ugly as they age and nice people grow gorgeous as they age. Well, this man was living proof of that theory. He wasn't even that old of a guy.  
Suddenly, he slammed Germany into the desk, so he'd be leaning stomach-down on it with his feet on the floor. Germany tried his best to squirm away and to shout for help. He knew that nobody would hear his pleas, and if they did they wouldn't care.  
"Nein! Please, please! Don't do this, please!" Germany wept into the desk, trying to squirm free. "I'll do anything! Please!" His voice was desperate and he could hear it cracking.  
The man didn't seem to care. Germany wasn't even sure if he had a heart or a soul. Suddenly and forcefully, Germany's pants and underwear were pulled down just enough. "No! Please! Stop it! Let go of me! This is wrong! This is against everything you've ever said! Nein, stop it!" The man didn't care at all. He gripped Germany's hair with one hand, slamming his forehead against the table to shut him up.  
"Quiet!" The man's voice was high a shrill, like no other. It would be a voice that would be infamous. It was an insanely distinctive voice.  
Suddenly, Germany was shaken awake by Italy. "Doistu…" German suddenly gripped Italy tightly, hugging him and trembling with fear. Italy had never seen a person tremble so much. He sobbed into Italy's shoulder. Italy knew about what happened to Germany during WW2, and he knew what Germany's nightmare was about: It was a flashback.  
"It's okay, Germany. It's okay. You're safe now. He's dead now. You're okay now. Remember our pact? I'll protect you and you protect me. I won't let anything hurt you." Italy held him tightly and he let Germany sob. "It's okay…you'll be okay." 


	3. Hiroshima (Japan)

Japan walked calmly around the peaceful city. It was springtime, and the streets were serene and gay, yet somehow busy at the same time. It was calm and joyful. A soft and gentle breeze blew, ruffling Japan's hair the fabric of his white kimono. Japan waved to a group of children playing hopscotch happily.  
"Good morning, Nihon-san!" The children called out to him with smiles on their faces. They looked so innocent. As if nothing could ever hurt them, like they could never hurt anybody. They were gentle children, yet cheerful and excited. They were beautiful, each and every one of them. They were children. Just children.  
Japan bowed to them. "Good morning." He smiled politely yet genuinely and continued on the way. The droning of Americans from above was quiet, yet noticeable. He figured that it was just Americans observing the area. They had done it before, so no fear hit him. Nobody else seemed to care, either. The other Hiroshimans continued on their days.  
He checked his watch. It was 8:13. His favorite manga store had just opened thirteen minutes ago. He was blissful, imagining the new comics he would get. He would buy them, buy ice cream, then go home and eat red bean ice cream and read manga to celebrate the spring.  
Suddenly, his eyesight went a deep scarlet color. Then, everything went white and silent. A few seconds later, he heard the loudest sound of his life. It was like nothing he had ever experienced. It was like a huge gunshot, no, more of an explosion. It was as if a million sticks of dynamite went off simultaneously. He shut his eyes, terrified. When he opened his eyes, he saw buildings falling. It was like nothing he could believe.  
He shut his eyes again. When he opened them, he was on the ground. He didn't remember falling. Had he lost consciousness at all? His skin felt incredibly hot, and the city smelled of ash and blood. His skin…Oh, god, his skin. It felt hot and sticky, yet dry. He couldn't move. Even if he wanted to, even he was mentally able, his body wouldn't move. His skin wasn't flexible enough. His skin was not it's usual pale ivory, but a blackened red. It was a color nobody's skin should ever be. He tried to move, but it hurt. Then sticky, greasy black liquid fell down on Hiroshima.  
_It's oil. The Americans are dropping oil on Hiroshima to feed the flames. I'm going to die. America is going to kill me. They're trying to keep Hiroshima on fire, like a giant fireplace. A fireplace that instead of logs, burned innocent children, women and men, buildings and roads. Burning a whole city._  
Japan let out a blood-curdling shriek, opening his brown eyes. He panted, gasping for air as he sat upright in the cold night air of his bedroom. He looked at his pale hands as they trembled. They had very old burns on them from that time, but they were their usual pale color. He wiggled his fingers, making sure that they could move, that his skin was flexible enough. It was.  
He knew that he wouldn't be able to go back to bed, not after that nightmare. He stood shakily, getting up to make himself tea despite the fact it was three in the morning.  
_Maybe I should call somebody…I need somebody to talk to…Maybe Doistu-san or Greece-chan…Maybe I should speak with America-chan._


	4. I'm Sorry, Lord (Italy)

Italy held Germany's dead and bleeding body. He had died just like Holy Roman Empire did. He fought so hard, and he got too big. He died being brave, yet so stupid and naïve.  
Italy gripped Germany's bloody shirt. "You idiot…! Doistu, how could you do this to me!? You…You left me here! All alone on Earth!" Italy cried into Germany's cold chest. He looked up at the sky. "Dammit, why God? He was so damn young!" Italy's hands shook. "God…please take good care of him. I loved him. I love him, now! How could you do this to him!? How could you do this to me!?  
"I'm just a useless kid! I know I'm twenty, but I'm just a kid! I can't live with out him! What could I ever do!?" Italy kissed Germany forehead. "You took him too soon, God! You took him too soon!" Italy wept. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Lord. For being angry with you. I…I hope he meets his brother, Prussia. I hope he speaks with Germania…I hope…" Italy could barely speak. "I hope he gets to talk with Holy Rome."  
Italy was awoken with the gentle kiss from Germany. Italy's eyes shot open, and held Germany tightly. "Oh, Doistu! You're alive! Thank the Lord that you're alive!"  
Germany smiled sweetly, holding Italy close. "You poor kid. Having nightmares about your friends dying. It's almost a nightly occurrence now." Italy shook in his arms, sobbing and holding himself tightly to Germany's chest, gladdened by Germany's strong and steady heartbeat. 


End file.
